


porner parole

by blueink3



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Filth, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:14:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22668373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueink3/pseuds/blueink3
Summary: I got sent to the Rosebudd porner for talking about tenderness and feelings, per usual. This is me doing my time.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 39
Kudos: 169
Collections: Porner Community Service Ficlets





	porner parole

“David,” Patrick whispers, breath hitching over two syllables which are two too many, and David smirks, hiding it in the too-light, too-gentle kiss he places over Patrick’s obscenely straining briefs. 

“Yes, baby?” 

He makes a whining sound, which should not sound as adorable as it does given how turned on David is, but Patrick doesn’t give broken voice to his desires. He merely keeps his hands white-knuckled on the bars of the headboard, just like David asked him to, as David presses another feather-light kiss to the rapidly growing wet spot on his underwear. 

“You’re doing very well, honey.” 

He whines again. 

“You are, though. So proud of you.” He traces a fingertip along the edge of the elastic, leaving goosebumps in its wake as Patrick’s body trembles beneath him. “What do you think? Should I take these off?” 

Patrick nods against the pillow, eyes closed tight, lower lip bitten raw. 

“You sure?” 

“God, David,” he breathes. 

He hides another smile in the tender flesh of Patrick’s thigh, digging his teeth in just enough to hurt. “Yes?” 

“Have fucking mercy,” he nearly sobs, and David groans and palms himself because he fucking _loves_ it when Patrick curses. 

“Mercy,” he whispers, nipping at Patrick’s stomach, chin dragging purposefully over his cock, watching as the flush stains that pale chest red. It’s so beautiful, _he's_ so beautiful, David wants to cry. 

He crawls forward and Patrick sobs again, but David merely brackets his head with his elbows and nudges his cheek with his nose. 

“Okay, baby,” he says tenderly, because it’s true: Patrick has been so good. David is so proud. 

He lets his palm skate down over his heated skin, pausing slightly over that precious heart that thumps up to meet the touch of his hand. He presses a soft kiss on those swollen lips, because this is where the gentleness ends. 

His finger traces the elastic one more time, before his hand cups him. Hard. 

David is going to _wreck_ him. 

“Then mercy you shall have.” 


End file.
